Ritualistic
by LoyalAsAViking
Summary: Evelyn was a witch from Tennessee. Dean is a hunter with no roots. In hell, they're just two souls trying to not break under Alastairs' knife. /Starts in hell then goes forward from season 4/ DeanxOC
1. Chapter 1

-d-

"So what did you in?" A female called from the cell beside him, crawling out of the dark corner she seemed to prefer. Dean had seen the woman be taken for her time with their jailer, but had never actually spoken to her. The thick collar around her neck redden as the chain behind her became taunt. With a quick hiss she backed up a few inches. Sitting half between the light and the dark. "Better yet, why are you in hell?" Dean couldn't help but watch as the skin around her neck slowly healed from the burns. The charred skin turning a smooth brown once again.

"You can at least buy me a drink first." Dean sat as close as he could get to the bars separating their cells. "Why do you have a collar?" Her hazel eyes narrowed for a moment before her plump lips pulled back into a small that was almost too big for her face.

"Because... i'm a runner." She said it as if it were a victory. The woman began laughing hysterically before her chain suddenly went taunt, the collar turning a bright orange. Her laughter died and turned into terrifying screams. Her collar burned brighter as she tried crawling backwards only to have the chain to stay taunt. Her body began to convulse, her screams turning into gurgles. As suddenly as it happened everything became still.

Deans stomach twisted as he came to the realisation that the woman was dead. He had watched her die and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. Maybe _this_ was a new punishment for him. He couldn't stop staring at her body, the line between her dark corner and the rest of her cell giving her body a gruesome halved look. Dean stared at her bare legs for so long he thought he was going mad as they started twitching. When suddenly she sat up and gasped for breath. Without looking at him she slid back into her dark corner where he couldn't see her but he could hear her soft sobs.

"I sold my soul to bring my little brother back. I got a year to live and when my time was up I was torn apart by hellhounds." It wasn't the most cheering thing he could think about to make her feel better but it was the only thing that didn't sound fake. "If I hadn't have sold my soul and died god knows how, I would have ended up here any way." There was a wet sniffle before she whispered out a quiet.

"How?"

"Lets just say if I was a deadly sin, I'd be Lust." He felt the first genuine smile he'd made in the three years he's been in hell stretch across his face. "I can't help it if the ladies love me." The woman gave a small chuckle before her collar turned bright orange illuminating a painful smile on her face before she was plunged back into darkness. "What punched your meal ticket?"

"Heat stroke. I had a friend who turned out not to be a friend; he locked me in his truck. I made it from Tennessee to Texas before I died." Slowly once again she came out of the darkened corner and sat halfway into the light. "I'm here cause i'm a witch." Dean tried to keep the disgusted look off his face, but knew he failed when the woman scoffed at him. "What's with the sour patch face, tough guy?"

"No offence." Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Hell, we both ended up in the same place in the end." He couldn't fault the woman for what she had done, said one part of him. The other part of him couldn't help but wonder what horrible act her kind was known for that she committed that deserved to be sent to hell. Or was being a witch an automatic one trip ticket.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, absentmindedly picking the charred skin off her black feet. "Not that it really matters, they all break in the end. I've seen them come and go. Come and go."

"Three years. Wait, how long have you been here?" The woman stood from her sitting position and Dean noticed for the first time how short she really was. As she walked towards the far side of her cell, the collar on her neck heating to a dull red, she pointed to a wall much rougher than the ones in his cell. "Those are...marks? Days?" Dean pushed himself against the bars separating their cells to get a closer look. Every wall he could see was covered in the small thin lines.

"I ran out of space and lost count soon after." Her voice was becoming rough as the heated metal around her neck burned into her vocal cords. "This torture is better than what's on the other end of saying Yes." Alistair had asked him to take up his blade to torture the souls that came into his path, he wouldn't say Yes either. Dean had so many questions, questions that have been brewing since… forever and with one shot of luck he had wound up beside the one person who may be able to give them to him.

The woman walked over to the one thing they shared in their cells. A small window in the back, cut in half by the cell bars between them. It was just close enough that the chain connecting her to her cell had the slightest bit of slack. She waved him over, pointing to something in the distance.

Hell was a big hole and along the walls were thousands of souls. Some reaching out their own windows begging for mercy or forgiveness, their hands reaching upwards towards the bright light shining down. Below them lay endless darkness, inhuman screeches and winged creatures sprue out on gusts of rotten air.

"They scream for heaven but that is only the light from the big-bads play rooms." She pointed to various areas over the next hour, answering his questions as best she could. "I've tried to escape 375 times, this place goes on forever." She turned to him then, her hand reaching out as far as it could go without the collar burning into her. A familiar gesture that neither of them had preformed in a long time. Dean reached out through the bar, their fingers touched only slightly but it was enough for the both of them. Neither had come in contact with another friendly touch in so long that the soft brush of finger tips almost brought them both to tears.

"Evelyn Bryre. It's nice to meet you." Dean felt something build up in his chest and tried to push down the tears wanting to spill over. The absolute relief that washed over him as their finger tips continued to brush together was nearly to much. He had gone so long begging to be brought out of hell. For God or Sam to hear him calling, but each time he was met with torture and disappointment. He didn't … couldn't have imagined how nice it would feel to have someone touch him with kindness.

"Dean Winchester." He managed to choke out. Evelyn gave him a watery smile before pulling back and walking into her dark corner once again. Dean wanted nothing more than to beg her to come back, to touch him for just a moment longer; but he couldn't make himself say the words and Evelyn seemed to be finished talking for now.

Dean tried to occupy himself with anything other than staring into Evelyn's dark corner, but the more he tried to look away the more he thought about it. But no matter how long he looked over there and how many times he tried to talk to her, he received no response. Almost like the woman was never there. It wasn't much longer before a demon appeared at the end of his cell, a wicked smile across its face.

"Goodmorning Dean. Let's go for a walk." The short 'walk' was really just a small torture as he was forced over razor blades and into Alastair's waiting room. Thick hooks were pushed into his skin before he was lifted high into the air, each hook close to ripping him apart. Not for the first time he screamed for his brother.

Over the next couple years Dean got to know Evelyn and hell a little better. She taught him how to tell the time by which soul was being tortured. She taught him which torture was easier to block out and which ones to watch out for. When he came back more broken than when he left she would gently hum to him, their bodies laying across their cell floors, stretched out as far as they could go, as their fingertips brushed together. He had told her stories about the monsters he hunted, and about his brother Sam. He had figured out how her collar worked and tried to keep from making her laugh but it seemed to woman was content on defying their torturer any chance she got and would stretch, laugh, and fight whenever the urge came to her. No matter how many times she died.

She did something to piss Alastair off. Something bad enough that her screams could be heard over the constant roar of voices that Dean would never be use to. She had been antsy the last couple days, her emotions swinging wildly from one extreme to another. At one point she even tried ripping her own head off, to remove the collar around her neck. Dean had watched her die seven times that day. She only stopped once a demon came to take her to her time with Alastair. She had been wild, even from where Dean had sat in his cell he had seen the crazed look in her hazel eyes.

Evelyn had fought the demon off, jumping on the man as if she were a monkey, digging her nails into its eyes as she screamed against the white hot collar burning into her throat. She didn't stop her assault on the demon until her body was limp on the floor, her head rolling to a stop against the slowly healing mans foot. Deans stomach emptied as the demon stomped it in until there was nothing left but a pile of mush.

He waited for her to come back, he wanted to scream and curse at her for being so stupid. For putting herself through more pain than she needed to be in. It was a conversation they had plenty of times before. He could already see her wide smile as she would lean forward enough to activate the charm on her collar.

"Fuck that." The fire in her eyes as she would hiss the words at him would always send a spark of fire through his spine. "I'm no ones bitch." That fire to fight no matter the cost reminded him of why he was in hell, that being in hell didn't mean he lost. Sammy would find a way to get him free, he just had to keep fighting.

Dean listened for the end of Evelyn's screams wanting nothing more than to cheer her on, to give a little of the strength she gave to him but when her screams stopped and she didn't return to her cage; the small victory that had bubbled in Deans chest popped.

When the demon returned Evelyn wasn't with him, instead he came for Dean. For the first time Dean followed after the demon willingly, if only to try and get a glimpse of his only friend. Their walk to Alastair's waiting room had filled Dean with a deep sense of dread, he had yet to see Evelyn and the one time he had broke down and asked; his demon escort simply pushed him down onto the razer blade floor and kept walking.

"Throw her in the Pit!" Dean had never heard Alastair lose his composure. The demon was a stone when it came to the jibes he had thrown at him. Yet, as the demon came storming out of his workshop, throwing a bloody and smiling Evelyn at his escorts feet; that bubble in Deans chest returned. "We'll see if time in the Pit will wipe that fucking smile off your face!"

Alastair didn't take a second look at Dean before he disappeared and three other demons took his place. He only had enough time to take a quick look at Evelyn before they were pulled into two seperate ways. Her wild eyes and frantic bucking against her captures renewing the fight in Dean that had been slowly slipping away. If a small town girl from Tennessee, who had never hurt a single person in her life could fight for countless years against these assholes, so could Dean fucking Winchester.

He fought tooth and nail for the next three years waiting for them to bring Evelyn back from the Pit. He marked the days she had been gone on his cell wall and stared at her empty collar until his eyes burned. He gritted his teeth a little harder when Alastair's blade cut into him and screamed a little less. He spent three years trying to give Alastair the same hell Evelyn had but no matter what he did the demon never broke. He never sent Dean into the Pit.

-e-

The ninth circle was always changing, always switching its form. One day a labyrinth, one week a hellscape worse than anything she could have imagined. There was no order down there, no time of rest like in the third circle, only chaos. Evelyn fought and died until her mind went numb. It was an endless horror, running from monsters that wanted nothing more than to devour her soul.

She had almost fallen prey to one, its wings carried it faster than her legs could run. It's hideous claws had sunk into her chest, pulling at soul. Crushing it inside of her but it stopped just as she thought she would finally find oblivion. It held her to its chest, hissing and screaming at something in the darkness. Something that filled the air around it with the bitter taste of rage. The creature gave one last pitiful howl as it dropped her twenty feet onto the rocky ground, killing her instantly.

When she woke up next, the darkness around her was penetrated by a bright light coming out of a small crack in the stone floor. Evelyn tried breaking through, but nothing she did ever widened the crack, never let her through. There was a madness down there that clawed at her mind, whispering dark secrets in her ear. Sweet stories that filled her heart with darkness and knowledge. She sang to the small crack in the floor where the madness seeped out. Whispered her sins into its fission and told it stories when it asked. It told her it was an angel, trapped here by its enemies. Promised her glory and riches.

Her heart had no use for such things.

Then it told her it was a king and would let her rule by it side, if she would only unlock the door. Still she refused. It promised everything it could think of, trying to sway her heart into opening the door for it, just a little. Just a window for it to look through, but even though Evelyn's mind began to unravel her heart did not.

Instead it gave her power, showed her what real darkness was and laughed at the petty games the demons above were playing. With every secret it demanded to be let free, wanted to stretch out and devour everything in sight. Wanted her to open its cage but she refused everytime. Instead she told it more stories, distracting the monster inside while she learned its secrets. Yet, it was stronger than her, the longer she stayed by the glowing crack that kept the monsters at bay the weaker her mind became.

As time went on the small crack started to heal itself and the madness inside could no longer speak to her. The rage she felt at being left alone in the endless black on the Pit overwhelmed her. The magic she had learned from the darkness taunting her with images of revenge, nearly consuming her entire soul.

Frank, the reason she was dead in the first place. She could stomach the thought of his blood on her hands but the madness pushed. It would give her Frank, show her a way out of hell so that she could find him and bleed him.

Evelyn had been so close to giving into the darkness, to saying Yes to Alastair if only so that she could seek out her revenge. How close had she been to becoming a demon herself? Whatever darkness that stayed locked in that cage, that leaked out though that crack had taught her beautiful and horrifying things, it had shown her a whole new world of magic that she never dreamed existed.

Evelyn had never felt magic like that. Powerful, hungry magic that grew with each creature she killed. Until she found herself, wrist deep inside the chest of another lost soul, their scream penetrating the evil that surrounded her. She watched in those final moments as the woman whose soul she was crushing begged her to stop. Begged for God. Evelyn left the woman, half dead on the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Note: I promise there won't be too many of these and in the future when I make one it will be at the end of the chapters. I just wanted to give a quick insight into how magic is used in my story. Basically, if you combine the magic in Buffy and Charmed you would understand what I have envisioned for this story. Thank you, and ENJOY_

-e-

One second she was running from something that closely resembled a dinosaur and the next she was laying flat against Alastair's table. The bright fluorescent lights were a harsh contrast from the constant impenetrable darkness from below. The air no longer smelled of rotten flesh instead it was a nearly overwhelming smell of bleach and metal. Sharp and smothering. It clung to her tongue, gagging her.

Alastairs stood beside her, dutifully polishing his tools. The light flashed off the smooth finish of the metal, drawing her eye to the wicked curve at its tip. " _Well, that's new."_ He hummed an old church hymn that pecked at a lost memory that Evelyn couldn't quite bring forward. An odd comfort that sent fear up her spine. Another mind game from her jailer. The religious part of her hated him for it. For humming a song that was meant for worship.

Evelyn tried reaching inside herself for the magic that had been growing the last three years in the Pit, but there was nothing there. It explained the sudden emptiness she felt, that a piece of her that was gone. Alastair had taken no chances and had put that collar back on her. There were spells she had learned from the caged monster, dark ancient spells that she could use. Ones that may be strong enough to break the charm on her collar; as soon as she thought about using them the face of the woman she had nearly killed flashed through her mind. That magic, those spells were too much. They were addicting and powerful and they changed something inside of her. Something that was almost okay with nearly ruining her own soul.

"The last time we were in this room you did some very foolish things my dear." Alastair, finally satisfied with his handy work, traced his finger down Evelyns face. "Do you want to repent?" Down his finger trailed, over her chin and through the hollow of her throat. "Tell me your sins? Say Yes to me?"

"I'll never be your whore." Evelyn spit at him and watched in satisfaction as it trailed down his cheek.

" _Whore_ is much too nice a word for what you'll be." His knife pressed into the underside of Evelyn's fingernail. "What you'll _beg_ me to let you be." Evelyn couldn't bite back her scream as Alastair got to work on his favorite game.

-ts-

"Now Evelyn, I have a question for you." Alastair was covered head to toe in Evelyn's blood. He had been working for hours carving bits and pieces slowly from her body, languishing in her agony. "Do you know a woman named, Allison James?"

"No." The question had come as a shock, it wasn't his usual line of questioning. Deep personal things that he seemed to get pleasure in destroying. He wormed his way in. Not only carving bits from her body but parts of her memories too. Taking them for his own.

"Really? You wouldn't be lying to my now would you, dear?" With a sickening crack Alastair had removed one of her ribs. Evelyn screamed until her throat was raw.

"Please. I.. I dont know."

"Well. She certainly knows you." Evelyn weezed as Alastair prodded her lung. "Maybe if you see her, it would jog your memory." Evelyn nodded frantically, anything to get his hands from inside of her.

Alastair pulled his hands out of the cavity of her chest, a long thick string of blood trailing after him. Evelyn's vision swam while her body was repairing the damage he had done. _"God, I just want this to be over. Please!"_ No one would hear her thought. No one answering prayers in Hell. Alastair left through the only door into the room returning seconds later. He was walking backwards, rolling something with him. A strange sort of muttering coming from it.

"Evelyn, this is Allison James." She was blonde with green eyes. Prettier than anyone Evelyn had seen while on Earth. The perfect face. Evelyn didn't notice these things the first time they had met. Didn't notice how human she looked, how absolutely normal. Not when she had her hands buried deep into her chest, ripping her soul apart.

"I want to know how you did it, Evelyn." Alastair's voice seemed far away. All Evelyn could see was Allison. The woman was mumbling the same two words over and over again. Her body stuck in the same position as it was when Evelyn was attacking her. "She's stuck in those last moments, you know."

"I'm sorry." Evelyn tried pleading to the woman. "I'm so sorry." She had made a vow when she was seven, when she found the magic within herself; she not only learned the beauty it held but she saw first hand its destruction. Now, Evelyn had done more than hurt someone, she had broken them. The memory of the day she discovered her magic clouding her vision.

 _Evelyn's mother had let her outside finally after her begging and begging. Evelyn had been secretly building a fort in the woods outside of their apartment. Her mother had told her not to go there but once Evelyn had stepped into the beautiful tree line she had been hooked. She didn't understand why her mother had wanted to keep it from her._

 _It was like a playground made just for her. The vines on the biggest tree she had ever seen were wrapped together at just the right height for her to swing on. There was a bush full of delicious berries right beside another full of honeysuckles; and best of all no one else was there to make fun of her._

 _It was in these woods that Evelyn had learned how good it felt to talk to the earth. She had talked to it once, while on the playground and the other kids had laughed at her. They threw sand into her hair and called her names. They didn't understand when she told them the earth could hear them._

 _In her special place, in her fort, she buried her hands in the Earth and closed her eyes. In these moments she imagined she could see for miles around. She could see the cars on the road, could feel the birds in the trees._

 _The deeper she looked the more beautiful it became, colors she had never seen before drifted in the wind. She could hear the worms burrowing in the mud. She could even hear the heartbeat of their neighbors unborn baby._

 _She saw the kids playing on the playground and all those beautiful feelings went black. She imagined squeezing the boy who had poured sand in her hair. Imagined taking the pretty blue lights inside him for her own; but then there was screaming. Horrible screaming that pulled Evelyn away from her game._

 _She ran from her fort and through the trees, following the commotion. People flooded from their apartments, running to the playground. When Evelyn got there, the crowd had formed. Her mother held her close, her warm arms shaking. They stayed on the edge of the crowd as the ambulance came, stayed there as Mrs. and Mr. Artword followed their son in._

 _Evelyn knew when she seen the boy. The small fingerprints wrapped around his throat. The way his skin looked dull and lifeless. Evelyn knew that it wasn't pretend. She could feel it inside of her, a fullness that made her skin feel too tight._

 _Her mother hadn't let her outside for a long time after that, but Evelyn didn't have the heart to go anyways. She didn't want to visit her fort in the woods, or play in the sandbox. Even when Billy Artword came home from the hospital, even when all the other kids became brave enough to play outside again._

 _Evelyn couldn't play again until she knew she wouldn't hurt anyone. Until the darkness inside of her faded away. Evelyn loved magic too much to stop but she didn't love how good hurting that boy had felt._

"You see. This body of yours...of hers, they're not real. Just a manifestation of your souls. You've somehow managed to _take_ some of Allisons soul." This was worse than Alastair knife. The woman stuck begging for help. Her eyes locked in horror at her attacker. "Not even I am so cruel." Alastair walked in front of Allison waving his hands in front of her unmoving eyes. "Who taught you how to do this? _How_ did you do it?" For a moment Evelyn thought she heard admiration in Alistair's voice. I moment of awe that made her sick.

"I dont… i'm so sorry." Alastair struck Evelyn, blood pooling in her mouth. "There..there was a crack." Something came to Evelyn then, the flash of something unnameable in Alastair eyes.

"And?" His hand was back inside of her chest, squeezing at her heart. "What else!" He was frantic for information. "What did Lucifer say to you? What secrets did he tell?" His nails were digging into her heart and before it could stop beating Alastair withdrew his hand far enough to let it heal. Always in control.

Evelyn's mind was fighting against the cloud of pain. She had spoken to Lucifer, to the Devil himself and hadn't even know. He had told her he was an angel, had told her he was a king. He hadn't lied, Evelyn just hadn't believed him. Hadn't _seen_ what was right in front of her. Yet, it made sense. How powerful and ancient the magic he shared with her was, it couldn't have been anything less.

"He loves Azazel more than you. Does it hurt to know you're not your father's favorite son?" In truth he had simply called Alastair prideful. A child begging for attention in all the wrong ways. As Alastair's' fingers stopped she knew she had hit her mark. She would never get the chance to truly hurt the demon in the ways he had hurt her, but this moment felt like she won a small battle.

"Then it has begun." There was an edge to his voice that she had never heard before. An excitement there that wiped away her smile. He wasn't angry or hurt. She had confirmed something without even knowing it. "Thank you, Evelyn. You've been a big help." Snapping his fingers two demons appeared on the other side of her table.

"One of you take her back to her cell. The other gather my brothers and sister. We have work to do." With that Alastair vanished. They left Allison there, not caring for the broken soul. It wasn't until they were on the familiar walk back to her cell that Evelyn realised one thing. She would get to see Dean again.

She had thought about him nearly every safe moment she had in the Pit. He was the one good thing about Hell. He was broken in ways she wasn't, an old damage done before Hell. She could see it every time she looked into his green eyes. He was strong in the ways she wasn't; a resolve he held. He believed so fully in his brother that Evelyn almost believed too. Almost.

Evelyn had spent two years in the cell beside him and in those two years she had found a friend unlike any other. They had so little in common but what they did have was shared in quiet whispers and stolen touches. She had never longed to feel another person as much as she longed for him. To shake his hand. To hug him. To simply feel the warmth he gave off. She thanked God for the gift of being able to feel his fingertips on her own. It was more than she had felt in over 120 years.

"If I was a demon I would chose a better meatsuite. Old japanese man doesn't exactly scream, 'I'm a scary demon.', now does it?" The demon drug her along the razored floor.

-d-

He tried not to act on his excitement, he heard the footsteps and her smart comments seconds before he seen her. They had came to retrieve her collar and chain hours ago, sending sparks of joy throughout his body. Instead of running towards the bars between their cell, Dean sat in the farthest corner and picked at the charred bits of flesh on his feet. For a moment he couldn't help but appreciate the mechanics of hell. Their feet were always burning from the coals but if they sat, it was perfectly fine. One of many small tortures they were forced to endure.

He forced himself not to watch as they chained her to her dark corner. He kept his eyes to himself as the demon kicked her. He kept his laughter in as she called him limp dick. He waited until the demon closed the door to her cell and in an instant they were both across the floor, their fingers reaching out of one another.

"It's okay." It was the only thing he could think to say as she started crying. Their fingertips, though barely touching, giving them that comfort they had desperately missed these last three years. "You're back. It's okay."

"I think I did something stupid." She sniffed, leaning forward just enough that the charm on her collar activated to a dark red. Their fingertips able to clasp together for the first time. They had never been that close, never felt that much of each other skin. All too soon she was forced to step back from the pain. That extra feeling was so powerful to them both that its absence was still felt minutes after. "I did something really stupid Dean and I dont think Ill be able to take it back." There was a fear in her voice that cut him to like a knife, he wanted nothing more in that moment than to be able to pull her into his arms.

"Whatever it is, it can't be worse than going to hell." He tried to make to her smile, but only received a frantic shake of her head. "What is it Evelyn? What did you do?" What could she have possibly done in the Ninth Circle that would affect her up here. What torture could they inflict that they hadn't before.

"If I tell you...if they're listening…" Her eyes searched her cell and his frantically, looking for something. Dean pulled his arm back through the bars and went to try and peek down the hall. "Please don't go!" It was a frantic plea, Evelyn pressed against her tunt collar hard enough for the charm to burn a bright orange. "Dean!"

"Hey, Hey, Hey. I'm right here." He reached back through the bars. "Don't hurt yourself, take a step back. I'm not going to leave you, Evee. Not now, not ever." She took a small step back, tears pouring down her face. Her eyes still wild in fear. Whatever happened down in the Pit had broken a piece of her that years of torture couldn't; and it scared the absolute shit out of him.

"I've been waiting, going crazy. I can't sleep when I know you're not around. I've been saving what you're craving. Look at my face, i'm about to replace every hurt, every tear that you cry." In another life, Dean would have rather been vampire chow than to sing to someone. In another life… but this wasn't just someone and this wasn't a life.

Evelyn had sung to him. Comforted him. Every time he needed that little piece of humanity, she was there giving to him when she didn't have anything for her own. Shouldering his hurt and pain and ignoring her own, and in this moment when she was so broken he didn't mind softly singing a few Def Leppard lyrics. The wild look in her eyes slowly receded and replaced with the soft spark of mischievousness that he had missed for so long.

"You sing Def Leppard to all the weeping women you meet, Tough Guy?" She used her free had to scrub at her face.

"I've never sang to another soul in my life." Dean laughed, even though they were in constant pain, even in their cells, it was manageable in moments like these. It was the truth, he hadn't even sang to Sammy. "If you tell anyone, I'll deny it."

"Ill commission a billboard the moment I get topside." Her smile was watery but still as beautiful as the first time he'd seen it all those years ago. Too wide for her face, her eyes squinting. "Dean Winchester. Secret Romantic."

"My romancing skills have never been a secret, Evee." Her laugh came out as a quick bark, that damned collar burning into her. The moment of casual joy over. "When I get out of here Evelyn, i'll take you with me." Her smile wasn't as big this time, softer than he had ever seen.

"If you're brother comes through… if you ever get the chance to get out of here Dean Winchester, you run and you don't look back. Not for me, not for anything. Get yourself out and be done with all of this." He wanted to argue with her, to make her believe him but not now. Not when he could see her standing on the edge of madness. He wouldn't push her today. "Who would have thought a hunter would want to _save_ a witch."

"Any hunter who took a second to talk to you would do the same."

"You only say that because you like my legs." Her smile was only momentary before her collar reeled her backwards into her dark corner. Her cell changing from its usual hell and brimstone to a miniature version of what looked like a morgue.

Deans heart sank as Alastair walked into her room followed by two perfectly groomed twins, their red eyes matching the ties of their pantsuits; the only difference between the two of them was their hair. One a redhead and the other burnette. Without speaking the women went to work placing various tools around the flat metal table, their heels clicking in unison on the metal floor. Alastair stood in front of Evelyn whispering something into her ear that made her dangling legs shake.

"Dean, i'm really excited for you to see this. It's something these two ladies are quiet good at. I myself prefer a more...physical approach." Alastair fastened a thick leather strap around Evelyn's mouth. Dean was surprised to see her complacency but when Alastair moved out of the way it wasn't complacency that Dean saw in her eyes. It was pure fear.

"So what? You get your rocks off torturing defenseless women?" Dean yelled through the bars, desperate to take Alastair's attention away from Evelyn. "I can almost see the human you use to be. A scared dickless bitch." Evelyn, instead of looking at him like her hero, narrowed her eyes at him, shaking her head behind Alastair's back. Alastair smiled at him.

"I think there's room for one more on this ride. Don't you think, girls?" With a wave of his hand Alastair had merged their cells, added another metal table, and recreated his cell. Dean wasted no time rushing the monster, getting a hair's breadth away before Alastair blasted him backwards. The twins, done with their preparation split up. One going for Evelyn, the other for Dean.

"Ladies, I'll leave you to your work."


End file.
